Pain Of The Condemned
by Bookfanx100
Summary: "He was only a few months old when he first felt pain" It wouldn't be the last. Teen for some child abuse.


**Man, I have not written anything in FOREVER. Much less in this fandom. In fact I've only ever written one thing for this fandom and it was a moderetly recieved crack fic that makes my eyes burn when I read it.**

**I do not own the Inheritence series. But I do own a computer, 9 years worth of schooling, all three Inheritence books, a talent for writing (not to sound braggy) and internet access! So there.**

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><p>He was only a few months old when he first felt pain. While held in his mothers arm, he had reached out for a small bug passing by in the gardens. As soon as his pudgy fingers closed around the black and yellow bug he felt a sharp pain in his hand and started crying.<p>

His mother immediately began inquiring as to why he was crying. He showed her his curled fingers and she pried them open, revealing the dead bumblebee. She started to laugh as she scraped the black stinger out of his hand with the knife she wore on her belt. In quiet tones she chastised him for doing something so foolish.

"You have to be careful. The world is full of pain and only fools create more for themselves unnecessarily. But you're not a fool are you?"

She smiled at him and the brief lesson was forgotten in time.

-{-

The next time he experience the emotion, the _pain_, he was about two years old. Foolishly, his mother had left a knife out while she talked with the bearded gardener. All his young brain could comprehend was that mommy carried it around. He wanted to be just like mommy.

He picked up the knife and ran towards where mommy was, but on the way he tripped and the knife cut his arm. His crying alerted his mother and she and the man she was talking to rushed over. She tried to chastise him for playing with her knife as she wrapped up his arm, but he was too happy she was there to listen. She picked him up and he hugged her with one arm and started sucking his other thumb.

"Would you look at that?" the stranger said "Monster's do have feelings." Mother started to yell at the other man.

Later, as he was out on the porch playing with some worms, he saw the man kissing his mommy. She waved goodbye and he smiled at her as he walked away. Before he left, he stopped and patted the boy on the head.

"Make sure you be nice to you're mommy, eh? We both love her very much, and don't want to cause her any more pain that she already deals with, right?"

He didn't know what the man was talking about, but he nodded and made sure to be very nice to mommy the next time she visited.

-{-

The boy, now three ran to the door happily. Was it mommy come to visit him? She hadn't come for a while.

"Mommy, mommy!" he shouted as he turned the doorknob. But the person standing in the doorway was not his mommy. It was the man who made mommy sad. He had seen the man hitting her once and then mommy started to cry. The boy's lower lip started to tremble.

"You're not mommy."

"You're not mommy," the man mimicked. His long black hair was wet from the rain outside. "I'm so proud you can state the facts so well. I'm so, proud." The man spat the last word at him and the boy started to cry.

"Stop crying!" the man yelled at him. He pushed the boy over and the crying became louder. "Stop it!" he yelled again. The boy tried to stop his tears, but they kept coming. Rage in his eyes, the man picked him up by the color and growled in his face

"Shut up!"

His breath was icky smelling. It smelled like a rotting fish he had once found by the river, but a lot worse. The tears were stopped by pure disgust.

"I never wanted you in the first place, brat!" he yelled in his face, "You're nothing more than an inconvenience!" With the same indifference as one might throw a shirt in a basket, the man pushed the boy away from him onto the floor. Tears came again.

"Shut up!" When he didn't, the man started saying words that mommy had told him to never say. "You're weak! How do you think you'll ever survive! You're nothing but a weakling not fit to survive! SHUT UP!"

The man pulled out his sword from under his cloak and threw the red blade and the boy where he lay crumpled on the ground. Luckily for the boy, the man's drunken state prevented him for making a clear shot, so the blade hit him vertically instead of horizontally. The effect was a deep and long gash that stretched across the boy's back.

"Get used to the pain, boy," the man spat at him. "It's all you'll ever get from me." Then, with a whir the man was gone.

When the nanny found him some minutes later, his thoughts were foggy and he couldn't make a clear though but one.

No matter what, he was never going to be in pain again. The man his mommy was always with when she visited him had said something about love hurting people. So he wouldn't love anyone. If he didn't, he would avoid pain.

And he didn't.

-{-

The boy, no longer a boy, sat hunched in the corner of the room, trying to blink back the salty liquid he had forsaken all those years ago. He knew that if he let them come, they wouldn't stop. He would not let them come. He could not.

All he could think of was the one emotion that had become so prevalent in his life. The one he could not escape. He had tried, and failed. But it always came back, no matter how hard you tried to avoid it.

Pain.

He had tried to keep people away so that he would not feel it.

But he felt it when he watched his closest mentor and teacher fall because of his decision.

He watched it as the same happened to the boy he felt bonded with through mutual danger.

It stabbed his heart as he watched the distrust and apprehension flash across the only person he would consider a friend's face.

He tried to rid himself of it as he was abducted and abused just when he was beginning to feel safe, but couldn't.

Nothing stopped it as he was forced to fight the only person he felt might understand him.

He could not escape it as the only being privy to his emotions and thoughts suffered because of his actions.

No, he could not escape it. He would never be able to. Everyone experienced pain, but he would never be rid of it. His very identity was pain. It didn't matter what _he_ said. It could not be changed. He knew who he was:

Murtagh, son of Morzan.

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><p><strong>This little one-shot was, in my opinion, pure inspiration. I got the idea, and knew I had to write it down instantly. This is one of the best fics for Murtagh I think I've ever written. I write a LOT about him, but none of it is good enough to post. Oh and I would like to say, no, I don't like writing about Murtagh because he's "SO HOT! I LOVE HIM!" No. I love Murtagh because he is such an interesting character! I mean come on! There's so much depth. His life is like fanfiction GOLD!<strong>

**Anywho, please review and tell me what you think. I'd really apriciate it. Especially tell me how you think I did Morzan. He's always hard to write. **

**:D May the Shade plot bunnies be with you.**


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